


Hard Light and Cicadas in Summer

by LilyRosetheDreamer



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Canon Autistic Character, F/M, Mentions of Blood, Panic Attacks, Romance, Violence, some are only mentioned, this was long lol, thought I'd explore a rare pairing oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 07:04:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8391883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyRosetheDreamer/pseuds/LilyRosetheDreamer
Summary: There is a call of a cicada in the summer and two people discover each other - and all that comes with it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Was discussing yet MORE Overwatch with @ozwyn and was curious what writing Hanzo and Symmetra would be like. Thus, this was born. Please enjoy! This isn’t related to the Journey series at all.

Hanzo notices her hard light constructs first. 

He is hardly uneducated, thanks to the luxurious Shimada upbringing, but Hanzo has never witnessed hard light being performed in front of him until he wanders into the weapons laboratory. He makes his own arrows (one of the few things he does that he can take some small pride in) after all and he needs a better place than his bedroom or the kitchen tables to replenish his stock of scatter arrows. 

He steps inside, finds one Symmetra carefully creating a turret out of light, and he stares. 

She is aware of him after a moment of scribbling down something on a piece of paper. 

“Mr. Shimada,” Symmetra says, cool and polite at once. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“I -,”

He pauses and shakes his head, locking away that moment of quiet fascination. Hanzo is not sure she saw it, but would rather not take any chances - open emotions means vulnerability after all. 

“No, Miss Symmetra,” he replies, just as distant and polite. “I merely wish to use the lab for my own weapon,”

Symmetra nods, already turning back to her work.

Hanzo finds a work table and spreads out his materials - and yet he finds himself distracted by her all the same. Her composure and certainty with that hard light…it’s pleasant to watch. 

That is his first encounter with Symmetra and he thinks little of it. He only knows that he is curious.

Hanzo has always been ever the inquisitive one out of the two Shimada brothers.

* * *

 

She is playing with her hard light in the recreation room, switching it from ordinary cubes into spheres, into a flower, into a mouse, into a bird that flies across the room and lands gently on his shoulder. Symmetra glances at him and he bites his lip, his brown eyes flashing down to his book in an attempt to make it seem as though he’s been reading this whole time. 

A clumsy action that doesn’t have her fooled in the slightest. She’s sharp, quick to notice.

Hanzo wonders whether he likes that about her. 

“I apologise,” she says stiffly, waving the bird back over to her. “I got carried away - I hope I did not bother you?”

“No!” Hanzo blurts out before he can think, blinking at her startled look. “I mean, no, I…enjoy watching you. Watching you use your hard light, I mean! I do not actually watch _you_ ,”

Her lips curve upwards ever so slightly and Hanzo trails his gaze back to his book, his cheeks slightly pink with embarrassment. He is not usually one for rambling, but he doesn’t want her getting concerned for her privacy - he has better manners than that. At least, he hopes he does.

“That is kind of you to say so,” Symmetra answers, her legs tucked under her as neatly as his. “Not everyone is interested in such a thing,”

“How could they not be?” Hanzo returns, his book splaying in his lap. “You are practically creating, well, _anything_ out of thin air! That…that is fascinating,”

She seems surprised to see him so eager, so  _open_.

Before he can slam up his walls after he realises his mistake, she smiles a little and gestures with a slim hand. 

“Come, I shall show you more, if you like,”

Symmetra too is lowering her walls and Hanzo cannot rebuild his own so soon - it would be dishonourable now. So he tentatively creeps from his chair to the couch and sits with considerable distance between them, his body tucked in the corner. She doesn’t mind and actually appears to approve instead.

Hanzo respects her understanding and her own way of keeping her distance. 

“When did you first realise you could do this?” Hanzo asks a little while later as she makes him a small horse. His curiosity is piqued again and Symmetra’s eyes glaze a little as she thinks back. 

“I was taken in by Vishkar Industries to learn - I think they saw my potential, though I am not certain how. One day, I touched a teacher’s hard light and started playing with it. I think they were greatly surprised,”

Her summary makes Hanzo’s lip turn up at the corner, imagining a small girl happily playing with her new toy while the teacher watched in surprise. It’s a surprisingly sweet picture for one as reserved as Symmetra. 

A clink of a cup against a saucer brings him out of his reverie and he finds her looking into her up with disdain. 

“I must go make some more tea, it seems,” she sighs and goes to stand gracefully. 

Hanzo moves first, standing and holding out his hand towards her cup.

“I was going to make my own,” he announces, feeling strangely nervous. “Would you…like to join me?”

The lady in question considers it for a moment, then hands him her blue cup with a decisive nod.

“Why not? I am willing to try any new teas after all,”

“I hardly think green tea is new to one such as yourself,” he retorts sardonically and she raises a groomed brow. 

“Would it surprise you to learn that I have not tried it once?”

He blinks as they reach the kitchen. 

“It does actually,”

“Good, that means you are still able to be caught off guard,” 

Symmetra sounds quite smug and Hanzo actually chuckles. 

* * *

 

“And then I told him no,”

“I would have too. He really should have a bath…or at least wash his hands,”

“Disgusting,”

“Yes,”

Symmetra pours herself some more jasmine tea, her brow furrowed in annoyance. Hanzo is frowning too - while Junkrat is someone he is quizzical about, that does not mean he particularly enjoys his company. He is too loud and apparently unable to understand personal space.

He feels sympathy for Symmetra, for she has to work with him more often. 

“I have been wondering about your tattoo,” Symmetra changes subject abruptly and Hanzo finds himself glancing down at it almost self-consciously. 

“Yes?”

“It is beautiful,” she compliments. “So detailed and neat! Where did you get it?”

Hanzo feels colour rising in his cheeks. The sun is setting in a blazing bonfire of gold and orange and it splashes upon her cheek, turning it bronze. Her caramel eyes are sincere and he can’t help but stare into them for a moment before remembering himself. 

“I-It is a ritual,” he starts awkwardly. “A passage for when I discovered the dragons within me. The Shimada have their own tattoo artist, who understand the nature of the tattoo and what it means to have it,”

Symmetra considers this, her manicured finger circling the rim of her cup. 

“I must confess, I am still having a hard time processing that the dragons you and your brother wield are real,” 

Hanzo gives her a wry smile.

“Many have the same difficulty, I assure you, Miss Symmetra,”

“…Satya,”

Hanzo pauses.

“Pardon?”

“My name is Satya Vaswani,” she replies carefully. “I do not mind you calling me by my name,”

She leans her hand against her chin as he stutters for a moment, a twinkle in her eye. 

“Y-Yes. Very well, Miss Vaswani,”

It suits her. 

* * *

 

They are put on a few missions together and Hanzo discovers that working with her is a breath of fresh air. She is composed and calm, direct with her reports and able to take care of herself. 

Sayta may be a supporting role within Overwatch, but she is an essential one and Hanzo will happily deal with whoever dares to question her. 

“Hanzo, you are being watched on your right,”

Her voice in his ear startles him briefly, enough for him to take in a deep breath at any rate. 

“Acknowledged. I see them,” he murmurs back, “A sniper,”

There is a grunt on Symmetra’s end and he finds himself on edge for a moment before she replies. 

“Apologies, there was a box in my way. Reply confirmed, be careful,”

“…Yes,” Hanzo hums, pushing aside the kernel of warmth in his belly. 

He swings himself below a ledge and shuffles along the adjacent ledge, listening to Tracer whoop loudly as she engages with a few Talon agents across the street. Mei’s warning call about her Ice Wall comes a few seconds afterwards. Hanzo pulls himself up as quietly as possible and clambers the wall like it’s nothing. He places an arrow to his bow and brings it up in a flash, releasing it with the speed of a cheetah. 

The sniper isn’t there. 

He slams his back against the wall and crouches to try and avoid any surprise shots.

“Agent Hanzo reporting in, I have lost visual on the sniper,” he hisses, irritated at himself. 

“Hanzo, the sniper is confirmed to be Widowmaker!” Ana cuts in quickly, her words punctuated by the smashing of glass. “Be alert!”

Hanzo reaches for a sonic arrow and two things happen at once. 

“Hanzo, Widowmaker is in front of you!”

He swiftly pulls back on his bow and releases the arrow, hitting a wall dead center. The sonic pulses outwards and reveals her shape.

A loud shot rings out and he feels like he’s been punched in the stomach with a battering ram.

“Oh,” he whispers, his chest heaving as he moves brown eyes to the little hole trickling dark blood. He’s numbly certain it’s gone through him completely. “I have been hit,”

“Hanzo!”

Several voices cry out, including hers and he sways, clinging to his bow for dear life as he shakily reaches for another arrow and stumbles backwards. He doesn’t get to release this one before she shoots him again in the leg and sends him toppling off the building. 

“Hanzo!”

Satya is yelling his name. Why is she being so loud? That is not like her. He lands heavily and fights back a pained scream as his ribs creak. Blood pools under his body and with considerable effort, he manages to pull himself up and stagger along the street, smearing red hand prints on the stone walls as he goes. 

There are footsteps and he struggles to quicken his pace. 

“Oh, THERE you are,” she croons quietly and Hanzo is tripped up, only managing to roll into the fall at the last second. He still ends up sprawled at her feet with blurred vision and a sense of the world falling out from under him. She raises her boot and applies it to his back, making him choke and gasp out. His tattoo flickers with blue and she points her stupid rifle straight into his temple. 

“Au revoir, little lizard,”

She doesn’t get to pull the trigger because a ball of blue light whizzes over him and slams into her full force. As Widowmaker stumbles back with a grunt, Ana and Symmetra come running round the corner with bared teeth and hair rumpled. Hanzo fights to stay conscious and wonders whether he’s dreaming now. 

“I think it’s time for ya to go, love!” comes a familiar cheerful voice that’s hardened with anger and Widowmaker is instantly peppered with bullets. 

“I’ve got ‘er!” Tracer shouts, whipping round a kick aimed for her head. “Get Hanzo outta here!”

Hanzo feels himself being gently turned over and whimpers in a gut reaction to the pain. 

“Shh,” Ana hushes as Symmetra helps her move him. “We’ve got you,”

Unfocused dark eyes find Satya and in his wandering delirium, he can’t help but think she’s beautiful with her hair in disarray and wild gaze. It’s a hidden part of her unbridled spirit. A hand reaches out for her, but drops at the last second. 

“Satya,” he breathes and then the jostling overwhelms him, pulling him greedily into darkness. 

* * *

 

“She is avoiding me.”

It is a worn statement from a hospital bed and Genji nods as he turns the page of the magazine he’s browsing, silver body glinting under artificial light.

“Most likely,”

Hanzo closes his eyes, once again trying to sift through the bundle of hot emotions that have been plaguing him from the moment he came round, trying vainly to find any trace of memory that may shed light on what he has done to drive her away. 

Satya was at his side when he awoke, but her relief gave way to strained smiles and cold jerking of her limbs whenever he tried to speak in a slurred voice to her. Now she has not returned and Hanzo’s trying to fight back the panic in his gut, the swell of longing in his lungs. 

Hanzo is trying to figure out how he feels about her - trying to name the blossoming heat in his lower belly when her fingers accidentally brush his when they exchange tea cups, the wide eyes watching her when she dances with her hard light, her warm brown hand and white prosthetic so clever and graceful in their movements. He’s trying to understand why he relates to her so well, how relieved he is when they sit in comfortable silence because neither of them want to hear noise and how he shrinks away in preparation for her trying to touch him, only to get a confused look in return as she reaches over him for a tool. 

He finds himself wanting to touch her, to smooth her cheek with a thumb and to hold her when they read together. He wants to know her more intimately than anyone else he has ever known and he wonders what her lips would taste like. She would fit into his arms, he knows Satya would.

He’s horrified, terrified at his answer. 

Hanzo is in love with her. He’s attracted to her and oh, he’s scared. 

Hanzo is _happy_ with her.

He’s not supposed to be happy. Not someone like him. Not someone who has willingly tried to take the life of his own brother. 

Genji lowers the magazine slowly as he hears Hanzo’s breathing hitch in that familiar way that signals an oncoming panic attack. His hands come up carefully to lay out palms up on the bed in front of Hanzo.

“Brother,” he interjects gently. “Hanzo, can you take my hands? Do you want to be touched?”

Hanzo’s wheezing, but he manages a nod, his hands groping for a moment before he finds Genji’s, squeezing them hard enough to crush them. Genji works him through it, taking him through Zenyatta’s teachings until Hanzo can take in air normally again. His muscles are leaden and he shivers, so Genji takes a cardigan and wraps it around him. 

“You have been with Symmetra a great deal,” he hums mildly and Hanzo nods, dark circles under his brown eyes, a stark contrast to pale skin. 

“Yes,” he sighs.

“You should tell her,”

“No, I cannot,” The words are forced out past dry lips, blunt and final.

“Alright. I wish you would not punish yourself…but alright,”

* * *

 

Hanzo happens upon her when they are alone, after a month of skirting each other, of being formal and icy on missions. They are making everyone uncomfortable, but neither notice, too wrapped up within each other and yet too concentrated on trying to avoid each other.

There is a warm breeze and his gold ribbon flutters with it. Her black hair glows and she’s beautiful. 

Hanzo is inadequate, too wrong for her. He can’t be with someone who’s so much better at redeeming herself and who has a true chance at a better life than he does. He is alone, as it should be.

Satya locks eyes with him from the bench she is sitting on and they roam over him, lingering on his middle and chest and causing a burning _something_ to shoot up through his throat. 

He swallows, hard.

“Miss Symmetra,” 

Her gaze shutters, darkens and becomes colder where it had been lit with an odd light moments ago.

“Mr Shimada,”

His heart aches upon hearing that, but it’s for the best, he reminds himself, his fists clenching as she begins to rise. Satya will walk away and find a new life, a better person to be with and he will stagger down the same sun-baked, bare path he has placed himself on long ago.

It’s for the best.

And yet it HURTS.

He’s hurting, a fresh raw pain that drowns him in a way he hasn’t in years. He closes his eyes and feels her ghost past him. He takes a single step forward, ready to slump on the wooden bench and stare blankly at the horizon until the sun sets and brands its light on his irises.

Anything to wash out her image. 

“Hanzo,”

He hasn’t heard her leave. 

She scoffs suddenly, disgust lacing her voice with venom. 

“This is ridiculous,” she snaps, swiveling round to face him. “I should just ask you to be clear and get it over with,”

Ice coats Hanzo’s insides and he can’t move. Frost closes up his throat and he can’t speak.

She draws near, her eyes piercing his being.

“Do you care for me? Do you…like me?”

The last part is spoken in an almost girlish way, a question pinned on the hopes of a schoolgirl’s crush. Hanzo stares at her, drinks in her curves, her long eyelashes, her _everything_. 

He shudders. He cannot hide from her - she already suspects. She already knows.

“Yes,” he breathes, too stunned to do anything else. 

Satya’s face crumples into an unbearable sadness and he yearns to soothe it from her. 

“So you would fall in love with someone like me? Someone who was too willing to listen to orders?”

Hanzo lets out a bitter laugh.

“I have done the same thing. Neither of us are very good at thinking for ourselves,”

Satya comes even closer, her breathing sending goosebumps over his skin. 

“You say you want me, but can you handle someone who gets too absorbed in her work? Someone who still has no idea how many people’s she’s hurt because of Vishkar?”

Hanzo takes her hand, spellbound. 

“Can YOU handle a murderer?” he asks plainly. “Someone who nearly killed his own brother willingly? I am…not good for either of us,” 

His gaze falls to the grass, watching a ladybird crawl in between leaves. 

“Satya, I understand that you cannot feel the same way as I do,” he murmurs, trying to push strength into his words. “I will not bother you again with these…emotions,”

There is a drawn out sigh and a soft hand takes his chin and pulls his face up to meet hers again. 

“There is a reason I have been avoiding you,” Satya states slowly, trying to be brave for them both. “I understand that neither of us are good with emotions, but I must try, for both of our sakes. Otherwise, logically, we will never get anywhere,”

Hanzo gapes at her and she smirks, her hand coming up to cup his bearded cheek.

“Hanzo, stay still for me,”

He only has time to draw in a burst of air before she’s tenderly kissing him, a chaste thing that says _you may run if you like_.

It’s all he’s ever asked for. 

Hanzo wraps his arms around her waist and deepens it, nuzzling her when they break apart for a moment. His cheeks are oddly wet and he only realises why when she brushes at his tears with concern.

“Hanzo?”

Wide oak eyes stare at his fingers as he rubs them against his lids. 

“I - forgive me,”

He’s shocked to see that her own pretty eyes are glossy. 

“Never mind that,” she chokes, a broad smile spreading across her face. “I think this is alright. I think this is a good thing,”

She has never been more angelic.

“Yes,” Hanzo hitches out, a wobbly foolish grin on his face as well. “Yes, okay,”

She laughs and so does he and they press their foreheads together. They’ll clutch each other all the way back to his room and they’ll fall into bed together. They’ll press against each other and explore their bodies, map out each little vein and mole and tattoo mark, each little imperfection (perfection) they come across. They’ll hold each other afterwards and wonder what now. 

But they’ll work it out. They’ll hold each other and weather their storms. 

That’s all they can do after all. It’s their decision to make - and that’s pretty special.

“I love you,” 

Hanzo says it like a prayer and Satya nudges upwards into his neck, sea salt on their tongues. 

“I love _you_ ,”

Perhaps they can redeem themselves together.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
